


two doors down

by bluegothic



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Neighbors, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 14:49:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2432699
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluegothic/pseuds/bluegothic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fitz has a thing for the girl who moved in down the hall.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. the girl

**Author's Note:**

> Loosely based off the song 'Two Doors Down' by Mystery Jets, which is not coincidentally where the title comes from. I don't own that, and I don't own any of these characters.

“when I hear those drums late at night / I know I'm in love / with a girl who lives two doors down”

-two doors down - mystery jets

  
  


The first time Fitz worked up the nerve to even look at her directly was in the laundry room.

He was tinkering away at one of the machines, his brows furrowed and jaw locked. He usually took these matters into his own hands. If he waited on maintenance to actually do their jobs, the whole building would be going to the laundromat around the corner.

She walked in carrying at least two weeks worth of clothing in an oversized plastic tote bag, humming a tune he didn’t recognize under her breath. Unable to bring himself to speak, he pretended not to notice he had company at all and carried on with the task at hand.

But she’d noticed him, even from his crouching position behind the washing machine.

“Hey!” She greeted, her voice as cheerful as the smile across her face. “You live on my floor, don’t you? Isn’t that maintenance’s job?”

Fitz scoffed, fingers fiddling around with a few of the faulty wires that appeared to be the source of the machine’s malfunctioning. “Not if you want the job done at all,” he snapped, bitter.

She laughed, setting her clothes down on top of one of the other two machines. “I’m Skye, by the way. Do you know if this one is working?”

Turning slightly, Fitz looked up and shrugged. “Should be.”

Her eyes met his for a moment and his gaze skittered away, still a little more intimidated by beautiful women than he’d like to admit, and focused again on the machine in front of him.

She hummed again and began to toss her laundry into a load, bopping her head to an imaginary song.

Once the machine was on and doing its job, she turned to face Fitz and leaned against it.

“So, do you get paid for this? Or at least a deduction off your rent?”

“I bloody wish,” Fitz smiled. “No. But if I don’t do it, there is a possibility that no one ever will.”

“So you’re like some sort of handyman superhero? Swooping in to save the day, one malfunctioning appliance at a time?”

He shrugged, slightly surprised that she was still talking to him. It wasn’t necessarily that he thought of himself as uninteresting; it was simply that he’d imagined speaking to her so many times in his mind, that he was vaguely suspicious that this may have been another one of his many daydreams. And those were always over before they ever really got anywhere.

Jemma had always said he overanalyzed things and though she really wasn’t one to talk, she was right, and a part of him wondered what his best friend would have to say about the way he was behaving right _now_.

“Nah, I wouldn’t say that,” he smiled.” I’m just good with machines; I’m an engineer.”

She seemed impressed, if her expression alone was anything to go by; her brown eyes wide and grin almost toothy. “That’s awesome! So if I’m ever having any kind of electrical problems, I can knock on your door?”

Normally, Fitz would roll his eyes at such a question. Very few things bothered him more than people who found out he could fix things and then took advantage of that. One of his roommates back at school really only looked his way when his XBOX decided not to work and it pissed him off to the point where he took the damn thing and programmed it to shut off after every three hours of gameplay.

But there was something about the way Skye asked that didn’t seem assumptive; something in her tone that suggested she was possibly just teasing him, the same way Jemma would. He smiled at the sense of familiarity.

“Anytime,” he found himself promising; and a promise he was 100% intent on following up on it, too, even if she was only kidding.

He pushed himself off the ground and walked around to the front of the washing machine, pushing it back into place. He glanced over his shoulder at her, a nervous smile plastered on his face. “Let’s hope this works.”

She smiled at him and crossed her fingers reassuringly. Both of them let out a deep sigh of relief when the machine slowly returned from the dead.

“Yay,” Skye beamed, “you did it!”

Of course I did, he thought to himself. It really wasn’t all that complicated of a task. He returned her smile and glanced at his wristwatch. He had plans to start setting up for a benefit he and Jemma had been invited to speak at in less than an hour.

“Ah, well, I’ve got somewhere to be, actually. So if you’ll excuse me…” he excused himself as he pushed past her awkwardly, secretly hoping he’d have an excuse to speak to her again soon.

 

Three days later, there’s a knock at his door.

He answered it in a frenzied attempt to get a pair of pants on, having just stepped out of the shower, and was humiliated to find himself flushed and standing face-to-face with the girl who lived down the hall.

Flustered, he managed to stutter a quick hello, all while trying extremely hard not to notice the cut off shorts and black camisole she was wearing. He _really_ tried.

“Hey there,” she smiled a nervous smile, biting down on her lip. “Uh, I hate to be a bother, but I could really use some help. Do you like ice cream?”

He found himself standing in her apartment an hour later, drenched in sweat as he tried (and successfully managed) to get her archaic air conditioner working again.

“I’d advise just investing in a new one,” Fitz said, turning it on. “This thing might be older than you are.”

“I’ll add it to my Christmas wishlist,” she joked, gently shoving him out of the way to stand in front of the fresh air, letting out a deep sigh of relief to finally feel cool wind against her face.

“Thank you so much for this, seriously,” she spoke after a moment, and began leading him into the kitchen. “If I had to spend one more night stripped down on top of my sheets and still be drenched in sweat, I don’t know what I would have done.”

She took out a tub of cookie dough ice cream from her freezer and pulled out a box of waffle bowls.

“It was nothing,” Fitz shook his head. “I didn’t mind.”

“Okay, wow, total asshole moment,” Skye paused, pressing a hand to her head. “Wow. I never got your name. I’m sorry.”

“Uh, that’s okay. It’s Fitz.”

“Fitz,” she smiled, apologetic, nodding her head. “Of course. Suits you. Do you want any toppings, Fitz?”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever you’ve got.”

She smiled again, only this time he found himself unable to read into it. “Feeling adventurous, huh? I like that in a man.”

“I can promise you I am only adventurous in the culinary sense,” he joked nervously.

“Even better!” She laughed. “You should come over sometime for dinner or something. I mean, I can’t cook, but I am incredible with a cell phone and a takeout menu.”

Was she... asking him out? He didn’t have much experience with things like this at all.

Surely, she was just asking him to hang out. He was reading into this all wrong, as usual. He’d have to call Jemma later and fill her in. She’d probably know what to make of it all.

He realized it’d been awhile since she’d last spoken, and quickly stumbled out an agreement to her vague dinner invitation before the silence grew too awkward.

 

“So you and your friend literally had PHDs before you could even learn how to drive, basically?” Skye said, taking a sip of wine. She sitting cross-legged on top of her couch, facing Fitz, who was clutching at his own glass of wine with a near-trembling grip. “That’s insane. Like, that is seriously impressive.”

He shrugged, scrunching up his nose. “I guess so, yeah.”

“Oh please, don’t play the modesty card. I didn’t even finish high school,” she confessed, staring at her dangerously empty glass. “That is seriously awesome. You should be proud of yourself.”

He smiled. “I am. Thank you.”

“Good,” she smirked. “So you and your friend, huh? What’s the story there? She sounds incredible.”

He hated this question more than almost anything else in the world. Defining his relationship with Jemma was one of the hardest things anyone could ask him to do. While there had never been anything between the two of them that would imply a more-than-platonic relationship, at the same time, their relationship, in essence, was more than platonic. It was everything. But at the same time, it wasn’t _that_.

So, as always, he froze at the question, while his mind struggled to come up with the words he wanted to say.

“Relax,” Skye jabbed at him, sensing his uneasiness. She leaned over towards the coffee table to replenish her glass with more wine and had another sip. “That was just my sneaky way of trying to find out if you had a girlfriend or not.”

Fitz could feel the back of his neck start to burn. Where was this all coming from? _When_ did it even start? Was it the wine? It was probably the wine.

It was definitely the wine.

He hoped his stupid face wasn’t betraying him like it always did, but with his luck, he was beet-red.

“Anyway,” she said, waving her hand as though to signify changing the subject. “You’re gonna have to tell me about how a brilliant young engineer like yourself ended up living here, of all places.”

“Another night, maybe,” Fitz sighed, glancing at the time on his watch. “It’s getting late.”

Skye checked the time on her phone, her eyebrows raising in shock. “Oh wow, yeah, it is pretty late.”

She stood to walk him to the door, leaning against the frame as they said their goodbyes.

“Please, don’t be a stranger. That offer for the best take out dinner of your life isn’t going anywhere.”

He smiled nervously for possibly the twentieth time since they’d met earlier that week. “Thank you.”

“Night, Fitz.”

“Good night, Skye.”

 


	2. the happy ever after

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fitz drags Jemma along to meet Skye on what he insists is not a date.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this update took months! It's longer than the first part to make up for it (and pure tooth-rotting fluff as a late Valentine's Day treat to you all). Thank you so much for the continued interest and much-needed push some of you gave me into finally finishing this.

“I feel like I’m intruding.”

“You are not intruding, Jemma. I invited you.”

“Yes, that’s exactly my point,” she said, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. “ _You_ invited me. _She_ only invited you.”

“Relax. It isn’t like she doesn’t know you’re coming. Please?” He asked, his tone verging on begging. If he had to get down on his knees, he’d do it. The idea of being alone with Skye for an extended period of time left him with a hollow feeling in his gut. There was always this disconnect between his brain and his mouth where beautiful women were involved. It was a miracle he hadn’t already done something to scare her off.

Jemma rolled her eyes. “I’m already here, aren’t I?”

He smiled, appreciative. “Just don’t embarrass me, yeah?”

“No promises,” she said with a sly grin, knocking twice on Skye’s door.

“Jemma!”

“It would serve you right if I did! You need to stop bringing me along on your dates.”

“This is _not_ a-” was all Fitz managed to get out before the door opened. Skye stood at the door, grinning wide, dressed in an noticeably form-flattering plaid button up, her long dark hair cascading down to her shoulders in soft waves.

“Hey Fitz! So glad you could make it!” She beamed and extended a hand out to Jemma. “Hi! You must be Jemma. I’m Skye. Fitz has told me so much about you!”

Jemma smirked knowingly. “He’s told me quite a bit about you as well!” she said with almost _too_ _much_ enthusiasm. He shoved into her discreetly and glared.

“He has, has he? You’ll have to fill me in, then,” Skye said, leading them towards her couch. “Have a seat. I’ll go get us something to drink and then place our orders.” She looked briefly at Fitz. “I warned you about my takeout skills, right? You’ll have to try not to fall in love with me.”

Fitz chuckled nervously, his cheeks growing warm. That last comment was definitely aimed at the both of them, but the room seemed to spin on its side anyway.

“You’re still managing to sit up straight. I’m impressed,” Jemma whispered once Skye was out of earshot.  
He gave her a look. “Shut up.”

She turned back to watch Skye move about her kitchen. “Well, you weren’t exaggerating. She is gorgeous. A bit out of your league. I can see why you needed my help now.”

“Shut _up_ , Jemma.”

“I’m only teasing you, Fitz. Just breathe. You’re fine,” she reassured him, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze.

Jemma switched over to the armchair next to the couch, so that Skye would have no other option but to sit next to Fitz. He narrowed his eyes and swatted a throw pillow at her, but she ignored him and casted a quick glance at her phone..

Seconds later, Skye returned with three glasses and a bottle of wine in hand and took the empty seat next to Fitz. She poured her new friends each a glass and then proceeded to dial for takeout.

While she was placing the order, Fitz glanced over at Jemma, who was watching him in amusement, mouthing “don’t fall in love” at him. If Skye didn’t have a direct view of him, he would’ve flipped her the bird. Instead he slowly shook his head at his friend and turned his attention to his feet on the ground.

“Alright, thirty minutes!” Skye proclaimed, sliding her phone onto her coffee table. She looked at both Fitz and Jemma for a moment and smiled again before taking a sip of wine. “So, I’m curious. What has our Fitz told you about little old me? Anything juicy?”

Not for the first time that evening, Fitz glared at Jemma, silently begging her with his eyes not to say something that could humiliate him.

“Just that he finally met his new neighbor,” she began, “and that you seemed very friendly. He also said you keep a very tidy home. I have to say, I must agree.”

He let out a sigh of relief.

“Fitz is a bit of a neat freak himself. You should see the crazed look he gets in his eye if even the smallest thing is out of place at the lab.”

 _Know when to stop, please_ , he begged her with his eyes. She smirked.

“Oh, please. That is only when I’m expecting company. On any given day, I can barely find my own feet in here,” Skye confessed. “But that’s nice of you to say,” she said, smiling at him.

“So, what brings you to town?” Jemma asked politely, refocusing the subject of the conversation to Skye.

“What brings anyone anywhere? Work. I dabble in computer programming. There’s a company based here that pays pretty well and lets me make my own hours, so how could I say no to that, right?”

Fitz nodded, feeling almost ashamed. He’d spoken with her for almost two hours the other day, and only just realized that he couldn’t think of a single thing he learned about her, other than that she was a good listener and claimed to not have finished high school.

But computers. That was interesting. He’d long since abandoned the preconceived idea that women working in the fields of science and technology were plain and uninteresting, especially having worked with Jemma for so long. But it wasn’t everyday he ran into someone his own age, if not younger, that had an interest in working with technology.

“How did you get into computer programming?” he asked.

“Uh, well… It’s a funny story, really. I’ve always been pretty good with them, maybe too good, if you know what I mean?” She started, setting her wine glass down on the table. “So I actually got busted for hacking into an encrypted server about a year ago. Turned out the guy I was doing this job for’s intentions weren’t exactly… pure. I mean, most of the time, they aren’t, but in that line of work, you learn not to ask questions, you know?”

Fitz and Jemma exchanged puzzled looks, both stunned by her candor. Whatever answer he was expecting, this was as far away from it as possible. A part of him almost wondered if she was kidding with them.

“Anyway, yeah. I complied with officials and got off without any charges being filed against me, but it was still enough to scare me straight, so to speak. So I decided to use my powers for good. I’m doing this part time software gig until I finish my GED and can go back to school.”

“Wow,” was all Fitz could manage to say.

“Well, that’s fantastic!” Jemma chimed in, raising her glass. “A good luck toast to Skye.”

Fitz smiled and raised his glass as well, almost blushing at the mere sight of _Skye_ blushing.

He was already in this way too deep.

Skye lifted her glass and clinked it with theirs. She bit her lip, shaking her head. “Aw, shucks, you guys. Thanks. You’re too much.”

A moment of silence passed where Skye glanced between the two of them before putting down her glass and clearing her throat. “So, tell me, what’s the scene like around here? Is there a whole lot to do?”

“You mean like, nightlife and all that?” Jemm answered. “There are a couple of really great pubs-”

“Especially downtown,” Fitz added. He didn’t have much of what anyone would consider to be an active social life, but the first thing he did when he and Jemma moved to town was track down a couple of decent sandwich shops and pubs.

“Yes! We should all go out for a drink sometime.”

“You do not have to ask me twice,” Skye answered with a smile. “So, would either of you happen to know what the dating scene is like?”

Fitz froze. There was no way he would be able to answer that question, but he didn’t want Skye to know that.

“Oh, we really don’t get out much, unfortunately. I just don’t see that there’s any time for that. And Fitz is practically married to his workbench. Unless he creates us both a pair of bionic paramours, I am afraid we are not the best people to answer that question.”

It wasn’t necessarily the idea he wanted to convey, but Jemma’s answer seemed to amuse Skye enough that she didn’t even decide to ask again if they were seeing each other.

“Wow. That’s rough,” the former hacker joked, smiling softly. “It looks like it’s going to have to be up to me to get you two laid.”

Jemma laughed and took another sip of wine while Fitz practically choked on his, trying to pass a nervous snort as a laugh.

The evening passed in more wine and incredibly spicy Thai food, and Fitz trying to figure out new ways to conceal the redness of his cheeks nearly every time Skye looked at him.

Still, it seemed to be a reasonable success - she laughed at most of his jokes, something no one but Jemma really did; and at the end of the evening, Fitz left Skye’s apartment no less intimidated, but a lot more hopeful that he would not letting that stand in the way of sustaining an actual friendship with the girl.

“ _I think she likes you_ ,” Jemma sang as they approached Fitz’s apartment.

“Jemma,” Fitz whined, about to urge her to not falsely encourage him, but she cut him off before he could.

“I’m serious, Fitz. She genuinely likes you. What the hell do you think question about the dating scene around her was about? She was baiting to see if you were seeing anyone. You don’t have to take my word, but a girl like that is not going to have any problem fitting in, I can promise you that much. I would act on it, if I were you.”

Fitz rolled his eyes and began making his way to his bedroom. “You’ve been drinking,” he told her, nodding his head toward his pull out couch. He made his way toward his linen closet, looking for a fresh comforter Jemma could use.

Her flat was only a few blocks away from his, but he was always uncomfortable with the idea of her being out alone so late at night, especially after she’d been drinking.

She smiled smugly, rolling her eyes. “I’ll be fine, dad. I am a big girl and it is a short walk, but I will call for a ride if it makes you feel any better.”

He sighed and shrugged. There was no point in arguing with her.

“If you say so. Good night, Jemma. And thank you for coming.”

“Yeah, well, it was a waste of my time if you don’t actually do something about it,” she urged, her eyes silently promising a threat.

“I will sleep on it. I swear.”

But sleep did not come easy that night.

The next time Fitz saw Skye was, appropriately, in the laundry room. She was finishing up a load just as he arrived, smiling warmly at him.

“Hey, you! Dinner was great the other night. We should definitely do it again sometime.”

Fitz nodded, setting his laundry down on top of an available machine. “Yes, definitely. I’ll check with Jemma and find out when she’s free.”

“Yeah, totally,” she replied, tossing a pair of jeans into a duffel bag. “I’ve gotta get myself a real laundry basket,” she said with a laugh. “Anyway, yeah. Let me know what she says! And if she can’t make it, we can just hang, the two of us, right?”

“Yeah. Of course. I will,” Fitz called out nervously as she left the laundry room, realizing he’d been twisting the sleeve of one of his dress shirts.

The three agreed on dinner again the following Friday evening, leaving Fitz with just enough time to compile a list of various conversation starters.

“You can’t study for a date,” Jemma had laughed, teasing him after discovering a page he’d left open on his tablet.

“It is not a date,” he responded, insistent, before ignoring her for the rest of the afternoon.

By the time Friday rolled around, Jemma had conveniently contracted a bad case of food poisoning, leaving Fitz not only to fend for himself at the lab all day, but also without a buffer for his plans with Skye.

He spent nearly an hour pacing the floor of his living room, debating whether or not he should call Skye to reschedule and what his excuse would be if he did.

In the end, the decision was made for him. Skye knocked at his door at around a quarter to six.

“Everything alright?” she asked, noticing the conflicted expression on his face.

“What? Yeah, I’m okay. Everything’s fine. How are you?”

She smirked, raising an eyebrow. “I’m good. You guys ready?”

He couldn’t back out now, could he? She was standing right in front of him. Jemma wasn’t there, but did it really make much of a difference?  
“Jemma’s actually not feeling too well,” he explained, half of him hoping she would offer to reschedule just so that he wouldn’t have to.

“Aw, no! Is she going to be alright? What happened?”

“Food poisoning,” he told her, leaning his arm against his door frame.

“That’s too bad,” she frowned. “Well, I don’t mind it being just the two of us if you don’t?”

He froze. She was still interested in spending time together, even without Jemma. Maybe she wasn’t completely wrong about Skye after all. Then again, it was probably best not read so much into it.

“I, uh... no. I guess I don’t mind,” he found himself saying, unable to refuse the expectant look on her face. “That, uh, would be good. Yeah, fine with me.”

“Don’t sound too excited, now,” she teased, linking her arm through his and pulling him out into the hall. “It’ll be fun. And this just means more food for the both of us.”

Before his brain could even begin to decipher what she was saying and read into anything else (thankfully), she was pulling him down the hall and up the stairs.

She lead him to the roof of the building, which was actually decorated as a garden of sorts, and set the basket in her hands down on a bench. He’d lived in his apartment for nearly two years and never once thought to come to the roof (partly because of his fear of heights, but mostly due to lack of interest). But it was beautiful, and once he got past the fact that he was up higher than any human being should be without walls or barriers to protect them, he discovered that the view of the city was actually breathtaking. Living on the third floor, he would have never imagined it being like this.

The early September sun had slowly begun to set, casting shadows beyond a golden-red glow.

“Wow,” he said, matter-of-factly.

“I know, right?”

“How did you even know about all this?” he wondered, still staring off into the view.

She pulled at his hand, turning him around to face a table she’d filled with a variety of foods. “Are you kidding? This roof is how they sold the place to me.”

“Really? Huh.”

“Did you really have no idea this existed?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never had any interest in coming up here.”

“Well, yay, then. I’m glad I get to experience this monumental moment with you,” she teased, taking a seat and gesturing for him to do the same.

He sat down at the bench across from her. The whole set up seemed sort of… nice. Atmospheric. A little too much so, if he was being honest. He didn’t say anything about it, of course, and instead sat there next to Skye in an almost comfortable silence.

“So, I hope Jemma coming up with a bad case of food poisoning isn’t you’re sneaky way of trying to get me alone?” she asked him, the corner of her lip quirked upward.

“W-What? Of course not. Why would you think that? She really called earlier to tell me she has food poisoning.”

She erupted into a fit of laughter. “I’m just kidding. Relax, Fitz. I, uh, actually have to make a teensy little confession,” she said, putting down her sandwich and leaning forward, her head resting on her chin.

His brain paused, lingering on her silence.

“Jemma does actually does not have food poisoning,” Skye confessed. That much was obvious to him. But how on Earth did _she_ know? “There is a possibility…,” she took a deep breath, “that I asked her not to come tonight.”

His heart joined his brain. “Wha- Why?”

She spoke slowly, and for the first time since he’d met her, she seemed almost timid. “I don’t know,” she laughed a soft laugh. “Why else?”

He shrugged.

“Okay. Never mind, Fitz,” she said. She was smiling, but she didn’t sound all too happy.

He looked down at his sandwich and frowned, more disappointed in the fact that he wasn’t gifted with the ability to read minds now more than ever before.

“No,” he said firmly, clearing his throat a little bit. “What is it?”

She smiled again, pressing her lips together tightly as she suppressed a laugh. “You are like, the dumbest smart person in the world. _I_ wanted to get _you_ alone. Obviously.”

“Oh…,” he said carefully, the gears in his brain starting to click things together. “Why?”

She rolled her eyes and put down her sandwich. “So I could get to know _you_ more, stupid. I like Jemma a lot and I think she’s awesome. But she also kind of does a lot of your talking for you.”

“No, she doesn’t!” he refuted, crossing his arms.

“Uh, dude. You practically rely on her for everything,” she replied, shaking her head. “Can I ask you something, Fitz?”

He uncrossed his arms and slowly nodded his head, still careful not to make any kind of direct eye contact.

“How come I just told you I schemed my way into getting you alone tonight and you haven’t even looked at me since then?”

He looked at her then, and awkwardly held her gaze, his face turning hot under the heat of her attention.

She rolled her eyes and leaned over on her hands to be closer to him. Time seemed to move at an alarmingly slow rate, and Fitz was almost positive if he closed his eyes and focused, he would be able to hear the sound of both their hearts beating.

Before he had a chance to say or do anything else (not that he was planning on it), her face was just an inch or two away from his. He couldn’t tell if she was going to kiss him and just waiting for him to meet her the rest of the way, or if she was having second thoughts about kissing him.

She moved one of her arms up around his back and lightly rested the palm of her hand on the back of his neck, and he took that as the encouragement he needed to close the rest of the space between them and softly pressed his lips against hers. Her other hand gripped his wrist as she responded to his kiss with a gentle enthusiasm.

She pulled away a few seconds later, a small smile playing on her face.

This scenario had been played out over a dozen times in his mind, along with many others he did not want to even think about at the moment, but not once did it actually cross his mind that it could actually happen.

The two of them sat again in a long moment of silence much more uncomfortable than the last, but it was a good kind of discomfort, which would take Fitz some getting used to.

Skye leaned over and reached into her basket to pull out a bottle of the same wine they had the other night, pouring each of them a glass.

“To monumental moments?” she proposed a toast, wincing at the cheesiness of the words that had left her mouth.

Relieved that he finally wasn’t the only one turning red, he smiled a toothy grin and raised his glass to meet hers.

“To enough alcohol that we totally forget I said that!” she added with a hearty laugh at her own expense.

He clinked his glass against hers and took a sip, taking a moment to pause and drink it all in.

 


End file.
